


But Will It Blend?

by JuliassicPark



Series: SGR ❤ JBB [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Underage Drinking, although i made bucky 21 so maybe not?, bucky is drunk and ready to smooch ( ˘ ³˘)♥, rants about informercials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliassicPark/pseuds/JuliassicPark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a very drunk Bucky injures himself trying to fight Steve, Steve takes him home to fix him up. </p>
<p>He ends up staying longer than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Will It Blend?

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to It's My Party and I'll Fight If I Want To
> 
> I originally wasn't planning on a sequel, but someone commented asking for it, so here it is.
> 
> Also this one turned out to be almost 3x as long as the first one, enjoy!

Steve paused after their trek, keeping Bucky upright. They had finally reaching the apartment complex Bucky had mentioned, and while no more kissing had occurred, Steve still felt breathless and giddy. He still couldn’t believe what had happened, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. 

“Which one is yours?” he asked.

“2...203. S’round back,” drunk Bucky mumbled back. Second floor, _great_.

“You got any roommates?”

“Nah, it’s just me.” And no help either, this was going to be a fun time.

Careful to make sure he didn’t bump into anything along the way, Steve led Bucky around the small building until a staircase came into view. He sighed, far from excited about taking on this challenge. Bucky still hadn’t really gained any traction or balance since his initial crash onto the pavement, so Steve hoped they would make it without any further mishaps.

“Alright Bucky, we’re gonna head up the stairs now, come on,” he coaxed. Keeping a tight grip on the drunk man, Steve slowly began descending the stairs one by one up to the apartment. _Thunk, thunk, thunk_ , Bucky’s feet dragged against the steps. He moaned, in pain or annoyance Steve wasn’t sure, but they kept going anyway. Finally reaching the top, he glanced around the doors and found the one labelled “203”.

Thankful the trip was almost over, Steve carried Bucky the last little distance before propping him up against a post. Yeah, Steve worked out, but carrying a pretty big guy down an entire street and up a flight of stairs was still pretty tiring.  He panted a bit, taking a moment to rest now that his shoulders were free. They felt a bit sore, but nothing worse than a hard workout.

After his breather, Steve reached for the doorknob. It didn’t budge. Locked, great. Bucky was still conscious, but he was so drunk Steve wasn’t sure he’d be any help. Never mind the fact that he had taken a pretty significant bump to the head. Sighing, Steve decided to ask him, because what other option was there?

 

“Bucky, it’s locked. Do you know where your keys are?” Bucky cocked his head to the side, giving him a puzzled look.

“Keeeeys,” he said slowly, as if he were a kid sounding out a word he didn’t quite understand.

“Yes, keys. You use them to unlock the door. Do you know where they are?”

“Hmm…” Steve’s patience was definitely wearing thin, but he couldn’t just leave Bucky passed out shirtless in front of the door. And there was also the issue of the head bump, which was still standing out prominently on Bucky’s forehead. He was considering other options when Bucky’s face lit up in recognition.

“Yeah! Keys! They’re… back pocket.” Bucky was smiling wide and clearly very proud of himself for this discovery.

“Okay, can you get them out?” Steve asked exasperatedly.

“Nooooo,” Bucky sang with a giggle.

“What? You said they’re just in your back pocket, why can’t you-”

“You have to come get them,” Bucky told him, grinning.

“Wait, what?” Now it was Steve’s turn to be confused. Whatever, he’ll just go get them out of the pocket, and- _Oh_.

Bucky had turned around and was leaning on the balcony rail, very obviously sticking his ass out in his direction. So that’s what he meant. Steve chuckled, and walked over. Bucky’s jeans were tight, and honestly, his ass did look real nice in them. Pausing for a guilty moment to enjoy the view, Steve reached into the right pocket. Quickly he found the keys, and removed them. Glancing up, he saw Bucky grinning mischievously and once again, very proud of himself.

 

Steve unlocked the door and led Bucky inside. He switched on the light, shutting the door behind them. The apartment was small, but neater than Steve expected. The living area had a couch and TV and was connected up the kitchen. The couch looked big enough, so Steve carried Bucky over to it, leaning forward to deposit him on it. Bucky, however, kept a death grip on his arm, bringing him down as well. Bucky faceplanted into the sofa while Steve hit the rug below. They had made it up all those steps and _now_ Bucky decides to fall over. Steve groaned and sat up from the floor, rubbing his shoulder that hit. He looked up at Bucky on the couch, who had flipped over and was now laughing.

“We fell!” he giggled.

“Yeah we did,” Steve deadpanned. Placing his hand on the nearby coffee table, he lifted himself up and resumed looking for ice. He went over to the small kitchen, opening up the fridge and freezer. The freezer didn’t have an explicit ice pack, but unsurprisingly, it did have a significant amount of alcohol. Instead, Steve grabbed some paper towels and wrapped ice cubes up inside. He walked back over to the couch and laid the makeshift ice pack on Bucky’s forehead.

“Hold that on for a bit. Do you have any pain meds?” The swelling on his forehead was pretty large, and though the ice would help, Steve thought Bucky should at least take a little medicine.

“Uhhh, bathroom?” His response was more of a question than an answer, but Steve went with anyway. He glanced down the adjacent hallway and saw two doors. Guessing, he walked over and opened up the door on the right, and was correct. He turned on the bathroom light, then located a small medicine cabinet. Trying not to stare at all of Bucky’s meds, he scanned until he saw a bottle of Tylenol. He grabbed the bottle and headed back to the kitchen.

Bucky turned the TV on mute while Steve searched through all of the kitchen cabinets to find a cup. Finally, he found the right one and took out a glass, filling it up in the sink. Carefully carrying the glass and pills, Steve made his way over to Bucky.

“Take these,” he instructed. Bucky obliged and took the medicine, but still spilt some water on his bare chest. Steve had to quickly look away when that happened, trying to contain his blush.

He decided to watch the TV to keep himself from looking at Bucky’s hot chest. It was an infomercial about some new-fangled blender that was apparently faster and more efficient. The guy on screen seemed really excited about it, and was throwing a bunch of fruits into it, blending them up with ease. Next to him was a woman who looked just absolutely astonished by the power of this little blender.

 

“I don’t get infomercials,” Bucky suddenly commented. Steve glanced back to see him staring intently at the screen, brows furrowed in an attempt to understand. “Like, I get regular commercials. You explain why we want the product, it’s short, it’s sweet, it’s whatever. But these,” Bucky pointed at the blender man. “These last 30 goddamn minutes. There’s only so much information to cover. It’s a blender, it blends things, look at it blend. You don’t need 30 minutes for that, you know?”

Bucky looked over to Steve expectantly. Steve just nodded, but was more shocked that Bucky was forming complete sentences.

“And there’s always one person showing it off and another person using the equally viable competitor but just fucking up in the best ways possible to show off how much better the other is and I just don’t get it. Do they work? Do people really fall for this shit?” Steve just stared wide-eyed at the drunk man on the couch. This was the clearest he had talked all night, and it was a rant about infomercials.

“Yeah, they’re uh, weird,” Steve agreed, still wondering why drunk Bucky was so pissed off by this infomercial.

“I don’t get it,” he grumbled again. Steve glanced down at his phone to check the time, and saw it was getting really late. Sam, Nat, _shit!_ He had forgotten about them. They must be worried about where he is since he was supposedly just going out to make a phone call.

 

“I gotta go make a call, I’ll be right back.” Steve stood up, and went outside to the balcony to talk. He didn’t know if Sam would hear his phone if they were still at the party, but he decided to chance it. He selected the number from the contacts screen, and thankfully, Sam picked up.

“Where the hell did you go?” Sam asked. “You’ve missed like 3 rounds of beer pong!”

“Listen, I went outside and I bumped into this guy and he got banged up so we went back to his place for some ice,” Steve explained. He conveniently left out the fighting and kissing mentions, he’d tell Sam about those later.

“Wait, you banged back at some guy’s place? Way to go, Steve!” Sam cheered.

“No, no, that’s not what I said I-”

“Hey, Natasha! Steve here went home with some guy!”

“About damn time!” Natasha shouted from the background.

“Tell me, is he hot?”

“Well… yes,” Steve admitted. Bucky was hot, there was no denying that. “But that’s not the point. There was no banging, we went back because he fell-”

“What’s his name?”

“Bucky.”

“Bucky, he sure does sound hot! Damn Steve, score! Hey listen, don’t worry about us, I’ll get an Uber. You go get ‘em, okay? And you’d better tell me everything that happens.”

“Me too!” Natasha added.

“Sure,” he replied. Technically, he would tell them everything, it just wouldn’t be what they were expecting. “I’ll be home probably a little after you guys, see you then.” He hung up and went back inside the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him.

 

The infomercial was still on, but Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch in the few minutes that Steve had been gone. He walked over, removing the ice pack and checking on the bump. It looked way better than it had earlier, the ice and medicine doing their jobs. Now, Steve had a decision to make. He could leave Bucky here on the couch, or try to carry him to the bed. Bucky looked fairly comfortable, but once again, protective mom Steve won over, and he decided to carry him to the bedroom.  

Steve reached down around Bucky’s waist, lifting him up over his left shoulder. He’d practiced this before from ROTC, so he knew what he was doing. Steve carried the sleeping Bucky down the hall to the other door, what Steve assumed was his bedroom. He slowly opened the door and switched on a lamp, trying to keep quiet.

“Taking me to bed already now, baby?” Bucky hummed in his ear, startling Steve.

“No, you should sleep.” He pulled back the blankets and attempted to lay Bucky down steadily. However, Bucky once again refused to let go and brought Steve down with him. He landed squarely on top of Bucky, and fiercely blushed at the position he was in. Embarrassed, he went to put his arms down to lift himself up, but Bucky grabbed his hands before he could.

“Not yet,” he giggled, and brought his lips up to meet Steve’s. Steve of course was surprised, but still kissed back. He’d lost all impulse control once those sweet lips touched his. He matched Bucky’s movements, opening his mouth up when Bucky’s tongue teased for entrance. They stayed like that, making out on Bucky’s bed for a few minutes until Steve had to come up for air. His head was dizzy from all the kisses, and he wanted nothing more than to stay there like that. Unfortunately, his logical side won out, and he pulled away, standing up at the foot of the bed.

“You need rest, Bucky.” Bucky was upset by this, sticking his red and wet lips out in a very adorable pout. Steve smiled and switched off the lamp. “Sleep, now.”

He closed the bedroom door behind him, hopeful that Bucky wouldn’t come running out after him. He paused for a moment, trying to process it all. Did that really happen? Reaching a hand up, he brushed his lips with his fingertips and found them puffy and slick.

Yeah, that did just happen.

Steve walked down the hall and back out to the couch. The infomercial was still on, the blender man still going on and on about this new features and how it’s faster, so much more efficient. Steve watched for a few minutes, but he was tired, so tired. If he just closed his eyes for a few minutes…

 

Steve woke up slowly and disoriented. The apartment he was in wasn’t his own, or any that he recognized for that matter. His neck was stiff and sore, and he realized it was because he had fallen asleep sitting up. He was on a couch, whose couch he had no idea, and the TV was on in front of him, showing some kid’s cartoon. Where was he? Steve tried to remember the previous night’s events, and then suddenly remembered.

_Bucky_.

He was in Bucky’s apartment. He must’ve accidentally fallen asleep on the couch when he sat down. Oh shit, what time was it? He hoped his friends hadn’t been worried about him never coming home. Steve quickly opened his phone to see 3 unread texts.

Sam: _You gotta tell me all about it dude! Call me!_

Clint: _Where are you?_

Clint: _Never mind, Natasha told me. Nice job! Details later, k?_

Well, it looks like they weren’t too worried.

 

It was about 10:30, but luckily Steve didn’t have any plans today other than homework and the gym. He stood up from the couch, stretching out since his muscles were tight from carrying Bucky. Oh yeah, _Bucky_. Where was he? As if on cue, Steve heard a door open and footsteps come up from the hallway. Sure enough, Bucky emerged in nothing but a towel around his waist, clearly just getting out of the shower. Steve froze. Did this guy ever wear a shirt? Seriously, it had to be a hazard to be that good-looking and be showing it off all the time. And now he had drops of water shimmering and running down his perfect pecs and abs? Steve could do nothing but gawk in amazement.

“You and I, did we…?” Bucky cautiously asked, looking confused. This knocked Steve out of his trance, as he quickly understood the question and waved his arms back and forth.

“No no no no nothing like that,” he denied, cheeks burning. A voice in the back of his mind said  _Y_ _ou wish._  He continued, “You uh, fell and hit your head. I saw it happen so I helped you back here to help fix you up. I then, uh, fell asleep here accidentally.” Steve hoped the story would jog Bucky’s memory enough to make him at least remember who he was. Bucky cocked his head to the side, studying him carefully. Slowly, a flicker of recognition went across his face.

“Oh yeah. Steve, isn’t it? Steve...?”

“Rogers. So you do remember?”

“Some. That falling story does explain why my head is throbbing more than a usual hangover. And here I was thinking I had gotten into some fight,” he joked, rubbing his forehead.

_You kinda did_ , Steve added silently.

Steve was glad that Bucky remembered him, but was still concerned. How much did he remember about the other stuff? Steve had never gone this far with a stranger, let alone one who may or may not have any idea what happened, so he really didn’t know what the protocol was. Bucky had turned and gone back to his room, probably to finally (unfortunately?) put on some clothes. Steve pondered his options while he grabbed a glass of water. Sure enough, Bucky came back out actually wearing a shirt this time, and went over to turn on the coffee pot.

“You wanna borrow a shirt? I dunno if you wanna wear the same one as last night. Might as well label you as ‘Walk of Shame’,” he laughed. “Though then again, you said we didn’t do anything, right?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve, gray eyes asking.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve quickly replied. He hoped it wasn’t a suspiciously quick response, but Bucky shrugged and seemed to accept the answer. Okay, so he either didn’t remember or was playing coy with Steve. Were either of those good? Steve didn’t know. He really didn’t know how to handle this situation at all.

“So, then, shirt?”

“Oh, right.” Steve went down the hall to the bedroom, feeling the memories of what happened in there lingering on his lips. He quickly picked a navy shirt off the top of a stack, changed, and rolled the old one up in his back pocket.

 

When Steve came back out, Bucky was pouring coffee.

“Want some?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sober Bucky was a lot more polite than Drunk Bucky. Very different than the man who tried to punch him, made Steve grab his ass in order to find his apartment keys, and pulled him onto his bed to make out. This Bucky lent him a shirt and made him coffee. Steve gladly accepted the cup and they sat at the kitchen counter.

“So what’s your major?” Steve asked, trying to keep the conversation busy so they could avoid any discussion of the previous night.

“I’m a senior in Mechanical Engineering. You?”

“Junior in Graphic Design.” Bucky looked intrigued by this, and took another sip of his coffee.

“Huh, I wouldn’t’ve pegged you as an art type. Would’ve guessed you were more like business or polisci or something.”

“Yeah, well, drawing’s always been a passion of mine,” Steve replied. “You start with nothing -a blank canvas- and by end you’ve created something all your own. I just think it’s great.”

“You know, I feel the same way about engineering. The creation aspect, I mean. When you finish, you’ve made something unique out of nothing and you’re just so damn proud of it.”

“Yeah!” Steve agreed enthusiastically. “Finally, someone who understands. Creativity is important, people seem to forget that these days.” Most people when they heard his major would tell him things like he’d “just be in debt the rest of his life”  or that he was “throwing his education away.”.

“Yeah.  Now it’s all save money this, efficiency that, and people keep throwing around weird words like _synergy_ and _incentivize_ ,” Bucky grumbled. “I prefer the creative design that ends up making this shitty world better, even if it’s just by a little bit, you know?” Steve eagerly nodded, excited that he had finally found someone that shared his views.

 

There was a pause in the conversation, a brief silence that sat over the two as they drank their coffee. Steve didn’t mind, he was still thrilled about someone _finally_ listening and agreeing with him. Bucky was stirring his coffee, looking into the cup intensely in thought. He then looked up to meet Steve’s gleaming eyes. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I remember… _more_ about last night now. Coffee uh, woke me up.” Steve’s heart jumped and he glanced down, breaking the eye contact. He knew his cheeks were heating up, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“Oh,” he replied sheepishly.

“My head is pounding and this hangover sucks, but I do remember more.”

“O-okay,” Steve stammered. He probably looked like a flustered mess, but he didn’t know how else to respond. This whole thing was new to him and his only way of handling said situation was shying away and waiting for whatever judgement awaited him.

“You lied earlier,” he noted. He didn’t sound mad, but Steve still panicked and refused to meet Bucky’s eyes. “It was pretty good, you know. I wouldn’t be opposed to it again.”

Wait, _really?_ Did Steve hear that right? He cautiously lifted his gaze up from the floor.

“I like you Steve, you’re a good guy. My stupid drunk ass tried to fight you and instead you took me back here to treat my injuries. I’d like to thank you for that.” Steve still didn’t respond, and his blush darkened.

“We started this off kinda weird, but I’m gonna just keep going with it if you want to. Steve Rogers, would you like to get dinner with me tomorrow night? Nothing fancy, of course, that’s not my style. I just don’t want this,” Bucky gestured to the both of them. “to end today.”

Finally, Steve felt a sigh of relief and breathed normally again. His heart still thumped in his chest because holy shit Bucky had just asked him out?? Steve still couldn’t believe it, but was more than willing to accept.

“Yeah, Bucky, I would like that.” Steve’s eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Great,” he grinned. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am an engineering major and my boyfriend is an art major. I can confirm it's a good combo (:


End file.
